


Drop trou

by Hexes



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Drabble, Flirting, Gen, Implied Attraction, Newt's unending patience, Slice of Life, embarrassing circumstances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-27 23:21:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20054218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hexes/pseuds/Hexes
Summary: Newt's niffler is holding a grudge, and takes a golden opportunity to pilfer some pants.Un-beta'd





	Drop trou

**** “Elliot.” 

The chaos in the study was a sight to behold. The bed was unmade, the pillows strewn about the floor, the tiny wardrobe was flung open, its contents spewed all over the desk and chair. Elliot had scattered Newt's meticulous notes all over the floor in his mad dash to escape Newt's frustrated grasp. The man sighed and straightened, beholding the bedlam. 

Newt stood, in shirttails and union suit, one hand on his hip, the other to his forehead, the bridge of his nose pinched between his thumb and forefinger.

“Elliot, give those back,” he sighed. His shoes had been left in a messy pile, one sock garter missing, his sock fallen loosely around his ankle. “They aren't even that nice,” he complained. 

His trousers were currently being sequestered in the Niffler's pouch, the damnably adorable little miscreant budged up under the desk, a Mumbai Spitter on the top, shifting uneasily in her basket. She was new here, and testy. A reality that Elliot was using to his distinct advantage as he furiously worked to stuff the trousers as far into his pouch as possible. Payback for costing him all those gold bars, Elliot thought, tipping his beak up defiantly. 

“Darling,” he sighed, rolling his eyes to the ceiling of the case, dropping his hand. “I need those.”

“I'll say,” Percival agreed. He'd come by to ask if Newt had heard of any Bowtruckle trafficking, and was rather surprised to find the redhead without trousers. Newt spun to face him, gawping a moment as he gesticulated vaguely, words tripping over his tongue as he rushed them out. 

“Ah! Mr - Graves. I'm terribly sorry - I! That is,” his throat worked frantically. He summoned a blanket. “I don't have pant- trousers! At the moment. I mean,” he wrapped the blanket around his hips, tucking it into itself, “that is to say, I don't keep extras.” He coughed slightly. “In the case,” he cut a vicious glare under the desk. “Perhaps I should reevaluate that policy,” he hissed, catching the supremely self-satisfied gleam in Elliot's eyes. 

“A case could be made either way,” Percival smirked, gaze smoky as he trailed it over Newt's barely modest form. Newt sputtered, desperately trying to summon the trousers from Elliot’s greedy paws.

“Yes, well,” Newt coughed. “Is there anything I can help you with?” He flushed deeper at Percival’s cocked eyebrow. “That is, ah, professionally?” Percival’s other brow rose to join its twin higher on his forehead.

“Indeed,” He allowed, “Trousers, or no.”

**Author's Note:**

> The magically disappearing plotbunny went *poof*!  
Still, though, thought y'all might be entertained. 
> 
> Cheers!


End file.
